


Lost Game

by LigeiaMaloy



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Accidents, Blood, Flirting, M/M, References to Homophobia, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LigeiaMaloy/pseuds/LigeiaMaloy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One wrong move could be the last one, as the Sniper has to learn the hard way. </p><p>But it needs more than severe injuries, a broken down respawn-device and a not working Medigun to dampen his spirits.</p><p>After all, who knows when there will be the next opportunity he could have a friendly chat with their team's Medic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Game

**Author's Note:**

> A Sniper/Medic-fic ordered by Drunkenfangschrecke ( http://drunken-fangschrecke.tumblr.com/ )
> 
>    
> prompts: broken respawn, suffering Sniper, a bit of fluff that's not spoiled by bad porn 
> 
> result: a quick fic about random Sniper/Medic-bonding time, passing the time with casual conversations about things
> 
> Warnings: blood, sensitive topics, not beta-read – overlooked mistakes can be thrown at the author while laughing manically

**Lost Game**

 

Thunder was rolling in the distance. Lightning illuminated the dark gray sky behind the mountains, and it was only a question of time until the thin threads of rain falling would turn into a curtain that streamed down from the clouds and turn dirt and dust into mud.

 With every step, the ground was becoming more slippery.

The whole day had been dark, the air humid, and the change of weather didn't come as a surprise. However, once started, the storm reached its full strength faster than expected.

Thundermountain, a territory that was living up to its name.

Like being cursed by a rumbling, black omen, Team RED's favors changed for the worse while the storm came closer.

The battle had grown intense with their enemies from BLU pushing forward and running over their defense, sending most of the team back into respawn.

All, except for the Sniper, who had been safe from deadly bullets in his hideout.

Their Medic was the first to return to life, his body fully regenerated and his clothes clean.

That was when the lightning bolt struck.

Sparks set red and blue painted walls of two respawn-rooms on fire. Fortunately, the sprinkler system worked and drowned the flames before they grew strong enough to devour their way out of their wooden prison.

But the burst wires were unprotected to the water that should have saved them.

Hissing and crackling and with flickering lights, the respawn system broke down, and with it, the whole electricity supply before the data of RED's other team-members could have sent them back to the battlefield.

Those who were dead that very moment were lucky – the emergency backup received the signal to abort the mission. Everyone caught in the respawn-process at the moment of the breakdown awoke fully cured in the main base several miles away.

 

Only the Sniper and Medic, healthy and alive when all this happened, were left behind.

 

*

 

“Idiot! I can't believe how stupid a grown man can be, jumping down the ledge like this.”

The Medic wiped his hands on his coat, adding more red smears to the other stains of blood and mud. He convinced himself that the bandage was firmly in place around the Sniper's waist.

 “Stop groaning, you are not dying yet,” he snapped at the Australian, skeptically eying the white fabric. Hopefully, he had enough time before it changed red.

“I cannot treat it properly out here in the rain. Come!” Once he had helped the Sniper up, he wrapped one arm around the injured waist, careful to place his hand above the torn flesh.

“Doc, I'm sure there's are gentler ways to treat a patient.” Sniper put his arm around the Medic's shoulders to keep his balance. Flinching at the pain shooting through both his ankles and the side of his torso, he limped beside the Medic, more shoved and dragged forward than walking himself.

“Oh sorry, I ran out of candy. Now stop complaining, I want to reach a more protected place before you start bleeding again, this is only a rough-and-ready dressing.” He turned his head around, searching the area for any suspicious motion.

“Or before the BLUs find us. Let's hurry.” Ignoring the groans of protest, he increased their walking speed, refusing the Sniper's request for a short rest.

 

“This should keep us safe for a while, in case they decide to check how many of us are still alive.” Medic stretched his back, hoping to relieve his spine of the uncomfortable pain. Running across the battlefield all day, following careless idiots and keeping up their health was once thing, especially when he returned refreshed and healthy from the respawn-room a few times a day.

Going back to the very same rooms where they started and restarted the missions on Thundermountain, after dragging an injured team-mate uphill and more carrying than helping him into safety was another thing.

He took a look at the heavily breathing Sniper. With his pale, flinching face he looked like the Medic felt after shoving and pushing crates to block the door to keep possible intruders from storming the place.

The Medic sighed.

As long as they were caught in this unfortunate situation, all he could do was his best to keep both of them alive until they fixed the power. One person complaining was enough, he decided, shooting an annoyed glare at the Sniper.

“Let me have another look at it.” He took a medical kit from the emergency cabinet and kneeled down next to his wincing patient.

Once he had made sure that the Australian was propped up against the wall in a somewhat stable, half-lying, half-sitting position, he opened the rectangular box, unable to hide a smile.

How obsolete all those instruments, plasters and dressings appeared to him, compared to the technology he used every day.

It was so easy to forget that the Medigun, his every day tool, was connected to the respawn device, and that, when the power was off, first aid kits like this were his only options, as they were for the rest of the world.

“Seriously, what were you thinking...” He cursed once he removed the bandage. Blood was already seeping through and the dark red gush he revealed didn't please him at all.

“Is it as bad as it feels?” Sniper hissed through his teeth when the Medic began to clean the wound with a fresh tissue and alcohol.

“Worse. How you managed to tear yourself open like that, sprain both ankles and break who knows how many in one fall is beyond me. Or why taking such a risky jump at all. Vollidiot!” Medic searched the box for styptic agents, biting his own lip to keep his face straight and indifferent.

Without styptics, he doubted he could stop the bleeding, but as it was, he didn't have a choice but trying to use what he had at his disposal.

 _'I don't have to heal him, I only have to keep him alive long enough,'_ he reminded himself. But how long was long enough?

“I wanted to catch that bloody rabbit. Animals rarely show up around the battlefield.” The Sniper winced when a needle was pushed through his flesh and the wound was roughly patched together with quick stitches.

“Bloody hell, don't ya have anything to stop the pain?” His vision became blurry; bright flashes caused by the pain almost blinded him.

“Even if I had painkillers or narcotics at hand, you would die from the blood loss before they would take effect. A rabbit, are you kidding me?” He swiftly sutured the rest of the wound and bit off the adventitious part of the thread with his teeth.

“Well, I thought it would be nice to have some game to roast, especially as it's unlikely we'll return tonight,” he explained with a sheepish smile that looked rather tortured and out of place in his pale face and with cold sweat running down his temples.

The Medic stopped wrapping a new bandage around the Sniper's torso and stared at him in disbelief.

“This is the most stupid, reckless thing I've ever heard of! Even if they don't fix the power until tomorrow, they'll send someone in the morning! You only risked to miss dinner and breakfast, and even you cannot be that much of a dimwit to think that would be enough for us to starve!”

When he was about to stand up, the Sniper seized him by his arm and pulled him back down, their faces suddenly only inches apart.

“Maybe I just wanted to impress you,” he growled, looking directly into the Medic's deep blue eyes.

“Oh, if you planned to impress me with your stupidity, I assure you it was a full success,” the Medic scoffed, returning the intense stare, his brows raised in disapproval.

“Well, impressed is impressed,” the Sniper laughed and, defeated by the unflinching expression, averted his eyes.

“Not that I wish to encourage you, but I usually prefer actions that don't include almost killing yourself.” Frowning, he pulled his hand free and continued to check the Sniper's injuries. He hadn't been mistaken - the right arm was broken. A tight bandage would keep the bone from moving and causing more pain; he could neglect accuracy, as soon as his Medigun and respawn worked again, it didn't matter when he didn't adjust the fracture perfectly.

The shock still lingered in his bones when he thought of the moment when the Sniper leaped after the bunny, almost scaring the poor creature to death. And scaring the Medic almost to death when he stumbled over his own feet, crashed through the worn wooden fence that marked the boarder of the battleground and disappeared from the Medic's sight.

He swore that his heart had stopped beating when the Sniper's scream was silenced after a loud thud. A look down the bluff and he had been sure that the Sniper was dead, his body limply propped between two large rocks, blood dripping down one of the sharp edges.

Even now, as he sat down next to the Sniper, he failed to find the right words to describe his relief when, after he had slid down the slope himself, he had heard the Sniper's faint groans of pain.

 

“Isn't working with a bunch of bloody nice guys like us paradise for a guy like you?” The friendly, mockingly tone of the Sniper's voice interrupted his thoughts.

“No idea where that is coming from, but I'll let your insolence slide because you already are more dead than alive anyway.” He turned his head, answering the Sniper's broad grin with another frown.

“Besides, back to you, after all, you've been hitting on me for a while now,” Medic remarked dryly.

“Oh, ya noticed!” His words turned into a hiss when laughing pulled too hard on his sore muscles and the deep wound.

“I simply doubt that the idea behind your silly bet was about me cleaning your van!” Medic couldn't help chuckling himself as he remembered the evening a few days ago.

 

_It had been chilly all day and after hours of work and a good dinner, everyone willingly followed the Spy's invitation to teach them a new card game._

_An hour later, they had grasped the rules, and another hour later, the Spy had left the table, feeling insulted in his honor when they refused to pronounce the name of the game the French way, pharaon. He swore, if he heard one of these cretins call it faro one more time, he would stab them in their sleep._

_After a few more rounds and a lot more alcohol the jokes became ruder and more offensive, adding to the cheerful, boisterous mood._

_Feeling comfortably surrounded by camaraderie and docile teasing, Medic laughed along with the others when Sniper suggested to raise the stakes, wagering beer and harmless dares began to bore the Australian._

“ _I apologize, but I'm out.” Medic folded his cards. “I don't carry any money with me tonight.”_

“ _Well...” Sniper rested his chin on his hand, his smirk intriguingly haunting._

“ _Ya can always work off ya debts. If I win, I'll make ya plans for our next free day. Deal?”_

_The offer itself was the cause of roaring laughter from all present team-mates, and after it had almost died down, they laughed even harder at the Medic's unexpected reply._

“ _Deal. But be aware, if you bite of more than you can chew you might end up unfit for the next battle.”_

 

“Ya have no idea how much I wanted to take ya at yer word!” Sniper fought against the chuckles that threatened to ripple through his body, hoping he could avoid another wave of pain.

Not having to worry about rupturing wounds himself, the Medic laughed openly.

“I'm sure you did. Too bad you lost the game.”

“Don't remind me, ya went from the table with my earnings of the month. Want a cigarette?” He grinned when the doctor nodded.

“Good, could ya fetch the package from the left inner pocket of my vest and give me one as well? Gotta admit, moving that bloody arm hurts.” Raising his bandaged right arm, he beseechingly tilted his head.

“Please, don't look at me like a lost puppy. You are a grown man, show some dignity!” Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, the Medic took out the package from the dirt covered jacket, gave the Sniper a cigarette and picked one for himself. He lit both with the lighter he also found in the small card box.

“Hey, be nice to a dying man!”

“Don't exaggerate.”

Sitting on the wooden floor side by side and smoking their cigarettes in silence, they looked out of the window.

The thunderstorm had arrived. Rain lashed against the walls while lightning and thunder flashed and rumbled synchronously.

“At least we can be sure that BLU has better things to do than roaming the area for possible survivors of our team.” Medic sighed. The cigarette tasted bitter, the smoke burned in his throat. He rarely smoked, and he saw it as his duty to warn those he thought addicted to what he called a bad habit about the negative effects whenever they turned up for a check-up.

Yet, even he couldn't deny he found it easier to calm down every time he inhaled another dose of smoke. He wasn't sure if it was the taste, the warmth or watching the spirals and circles forming after he let escape from his lips and nose, but he soon felt himself relax a bit.

“So you're really not interested in your team-mates? Like, Heavy?”

There went his relaxation!

“What on earth makes you think that Heavy and I...?” Shaking his head at the question, he quizzically lifted his shoulders.

“The two of you hang out together all the time,” Sniper stated, pointing his cigarette at the Medic to stress his argument. The Medic gave a laugh.

“Idiot. I hope that you don't chase after every man and woman you see just because you like both. But to answer your question – he's a great guy and splendid as his job, a very good friend. But alas, with all his good qualities, he's not quite my type. And before you ask – it might surprise you, but I'm not that much into intellectual guys. Satisfied?”

“Considering my condition, I can hardly ask for more satisfaction.” With a smug grin, he carefully stretched his legs and shifted the position of his body. As if his injuries weren't enough, his back was also starting to hurt.

“Ya know, it's nice to hear our uptight doctor talk so openly for once. I mean, we are all weirdos, and not all of us have flawless pasts. After all these years working together, ya should really know that nobody cares if ya prefer guys over girls,” he rambled on, voicing the questions he had harbored in his mind for a long while now. The wound beneath the bandage felt hot, and talking on distracted his thoughts from the throbbing and burning pain.

“It's a habit. We also all know about Pyro's past and what would await him if he left the team, yet nobody questions his silence.” He helped himself with another cigarette, offering one to the Sniper who gladly accepted.

“Well, sleeping with blokes is hardly the same as being a manic arsonist who joined the company to escape the hot seat.”

“Sniper, we live in our own, secluded world. The world apart from the team has different values. You forget that when I was young, they thought it wasn't much better than whatever crime Pyro or one of the others committed. For many years, I would have been killed if I had been found out,” he explained slowly.

His life might have changed, but years of fear, lies and denial aren't easily erased from a memory. Beside that, he wasn't kidding himself. Even years after the war in his home country, most people frowned upon those like him, all around the world.

“Would they really? You're German, too, I thought they only killed...” A bitter laugh interrupted the Sniper.

“They only killed Jews? First off – no, they also killed invalids, the mentally ill, homosexuals and whoever else the regime didn't think good enough.

Secondly - where do you think all those victims came from? Imported from other countries? No, my dear!” He chortled at what was an absurd question to him.

“No. When people sneer at Germans for what they did they tend to forget that most of the victims were Germans, too. And the rules changed all the time. Just because one was safe one day, one might have been on their list the very next morning.”

“Wow, I never thought much about it like that, well, gotta admit, I don't know much about the details. Only the headlines and what the told in the news. Change of topic?”

“Change of topic.” Medic breathed out a long sigh of relief. All this explaining and justifying something that hadn't been his doing had become so old over the years, he had grown tired of it.

“So,” the Sniper began slowly, glancing at him slyly.

“So ya... actually never had a partner?”

“Oh, of course I did,” the Medic replied promptly and took a long-drawn pull from the cigarette.

The wistful smile caught the Sniper off-guard; now, he had more or less expected an answer like this – they were both grown men close to their forties after all. But he hadn't expected it to be given so readily and he certainly hadn't expected it would make himself feel so uncomfortable.

Why he felt like this he was aware of and he saw no reason to deny it – he was jealous. Was it actually hearing the fact itself or the regretful expression that made the Medic's sharp features look unusually soft – he didn't know.

“What happened?” Did he really want to hear the details about the Medic's former lovers? Of course he wanted to.

“He died. They caught him in the very act of committing what they called a filthy, disgusting sin and executed him without a trial.

“What the... but you're alive, how did you...?” Sniper stared at him in bewilderment.

“The irony!” Medic snorted with a chuckle.

“The guy he was making out with wasn't me. He was caught while cheating on me, and that, maybe, saved my life. It's a joke. Can I have another? Thank you. You know,” he growled with the cigarette between his lips while he lit it up.

“You know, I had the chance to visit him before deported. Damn, I was so angry... but How do you yell at a person who is about to be killed? Especially when he smiles at you, while he confesses he loves you which didn't stop him from cheating on you for more than a year, and that now, karma was punishing him. Verdammte Scheiße!” The Medic had started calmly, almost amused. But as he spoke on, his voice became louder and angrier and although Sniper didn't understand the last two words, the furious sparkle in his eyes and the scornful sneer overshadowing his face were enough for the Australian to understand.

He wished he could do something, on an impulse, he wanted to shove the dark strands of hair out of the handsome face. However, hardly being able to move, he had to accept that he couldn't do anything but listen.

“Believe me, I didn't want him to die. If I had known a way I would have saved him. But dammit, it was really pissing me off that I wasn't allowed to be angry at him for being a cheating asshole!” Medic growled, stubbing the cigarette out on floor so angrily that the Sniper feared the dying ember would burn through the wood.

“Don't blame yaself, doc. He was an asshole, and it wasn't ya finding out about it killing him, but the circumstances.” Ignoring the sting in his side, he twisted just enough to put his left hand on the Medic's shoulder.

“I know, Sniper, I know,” the Medic sighed.

“Don't worry about it. All I miss about him is a fair chance to be angry at him. But it's in the past, and he's an idiot of the past.” Suddenly, he broke into a smile.

“Guess I cannot help it. As I've said before, I'm obviously not into the intellectual, smart type.” Returning to his usual, aloof self, the Medic grinned at the Sniper, who caught the challenging undertone.

“Is that so. About what kind of bloke we are talking?” The mood had changed so abruptly from relaxed to dark and back to relaxed and taunting, it made the Sniper feel dizzy. His hand was still resting on the Medic's shoulder. He shoved it towards the slim neck; the pale skin felt warm beneath his fingertips.

“Lean. Unrefined. Kind of wild. And sometimes, incredibly reckless and stupid and never thinking about the consequences.” Irritated, he took hold of the hand touching him.

“Your hand is cold as ice. My, do you have a fever?” He didn't have to feel the Sniper's forehead, a look into the moist eyes and the glowing cheeks confirmed his worry. Carefully, he shoved the bandaged arm out of the way, to gain a better view at the wound.

“Dammit, it's bleeding again.” The white fabric was colored crimson. Medic hesitated.

If he changed it, the Sniper would probably lose even more blood. Was there enough of dressing material left to put on another layer?

His fingers ran over the skin surrounding the wound – it was hot and although he hardly used any pressure, the Sniper groaned in pain.

“Don't tell me it's getting infected. Sniper? Hey!” His eyes widened when there wasn't an answer.

“Don't scare me like this, Du Narr. God, for a second I thought you were - “ He refused to finish the sentence. The Sniper had lost his consciousness and was still breathing. His chest, however, was raising and lowering too fast, his breathing too shallow.

“Hey, wake up!” Gently, he shook the Sniper by his shoulder. This didn't look good at all, so he laughed with relief when the Sniper reluctantly opened his eyes.

“Hey, handsome doc.” He lifted his good arm and caressed the Medic's flushed cheek with a trembling hand.

“If I survive this, how about another game of faro? Double or nothing?”

“ _Once_ we've survived this, are back and have you patched you up, you can have your rematch.” He took the cold hand into his.

“And this time, I'll let you win.” The Medic leaned forward, still holding the Sniper's hand. Gently, he kissed him, feeling how the cold lips formed a faint smile.

When the Medic withdrew, the pale Sniper had fallen into a feverish sleep.

With a worried frown, Medic searched the silent face. Mechanically, he felt for the Sniper's pulse.

Low, far too low!

He turned his head towards the window. The sky was still clouded and the rain hadn't stopped, but the gloomy black had changed. Medic couldn't remember the last time he had been so glad to see a gray sky.

“Come on! Only a little while longer! They'll send someone soon!” Nervously, he checked his watch, making a snorting noise when he realized it was broken.

He swallowed hard. Sniper's breathing became weaker with any minute. The bandage was hardly visible anymore where it covered the torn flesh – too much blood was seeping through the now wet fabric.

“Whatever hour it is, we are running out of time anyway.” Struggling to keep his composure, he touched the colorless face. It was cold from sweat.

“Lean, wild, reckless. Killed by the circumstances. What a pattern. I - “

Suddenly, he jumped up.

The ceiling lamps above his hands began to flicker. Slowly first, than repeatedly.

“Endlich! Come, hang in there! Just a little bit longer!” Losing the fight for his countenance for good, he violently shook the Sniper until his eyelids fluttered.

Medic shoved his shoulder under the Sniper's limp arm, grabbed him by the belt of his pants and pulled him up.

“We can make it! Don't give up now!” Gritting his teeth, he began to drag the still half unconscious Sniper towards the backroom, to the respawn device.

More and more strung up with every second, he kept glancing at the lamps. They were still flickering, and he prayed to every God he had ever heard of that they wouldn't turn dark again.

“Sniper? You hear me?” At the end of his tether, he yelled at the man hanging over his shoulder. “Holy...! Don't die on me now, you dumb asshole! Look! It's back! It's back!”

It was.

In front of them, the control lamps flickered and wavered and for a second, they went out completely. Then, all of a sudden, they were back!

With them, the power also returned to the respawn device. Where the energy of the lightning bolt had smoldered the wiring, sparks flew and hissed when they drowned in the remaining puddles of water.

“Calm down, fool. Everything's good.” The Sniper more breathed than spoke, hardly able to lift his head.

“Just let me die here.”

“You are the fool, you idiot!” The Medic tightened his grip around the Sniper's waist.

“I cannot let you die. Respawn only works when death is inflicted by the weapons connected to the system, or when killed by the registered territory. But you idiot insisted to do everything to bypass the damned respawn-conditions!” Medic growled, letting the Sniper carefully slide to the ground.

Too weak to maintain his balance, Sniper slumped down, his head almost crashing to the hard floor, if the Medic hadn't caught him in time.

“Lay down here, I'll be right back.” Medic sprinted back to the first room and returned in less than a minute.

“Are you going to shoot me?” Sniper lifted his daze, grinning. “Clever. But will it work?”

“The Medigun is still out of order, so I hope the other weapons are still detached from the system as well.” He released the safety catch of the pistol he had picked up. But when he aimed at the Sniper's head, he hesitated. The devices belonging to respawn had the power returned to them.

However, the lamps were still flickering, and when the weapons didn't work properly yet – how could he be sure that dying now would sent the Sniper home? Maybe he should wait a bit longer, for a call, for somebody to come and save them.

“Hey, don't worry.” The Sniper smiled at him. His voice was slowly fading away and he lacked the strength to open his eyes one more time.

“It will be alright. Don't think I'm gonna kick the bucket just after figuring out ya totally have a crush on me.”

“You are impossible, you handsome, reckless idiot.”

The Sniper didn't answer. His chest didn't show any sign of moving.

The Medic was about to check the Sniper's pulse again, but halted.

Instead, he pulled the trigger.

Now, he didn't have to check anything anymore. Trembling, he watched how the blood pooled under the Sniper's head.

“Disappear! Disappear already!” Nervously, he began to count. 12 or 15 seconds weren't unusual in the mountains.

When he reached ten, he lifted the gun to his head.

“See you at the poker table.”

A second gunshot echoed from the walls in RED's deserted respawn-room.

Before the well-known darkness of death engulfed him, he believed to hear a familiar humming sound from working wires, and the body in front of his dying eyes dissolved, along with the world around him.

 


End file.
